


Breakfast Special

by MadamRed



Series: 400-Follower Celebration (Tumblr) [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Christmas Music, Dancing and Singing, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9058837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRed/pseuds/MadamRed
Summary: Writing prompt requested on Tumblr: “I can't sleep...”





	

_‘Bella?’_ David’s deep voice came from the top of the stairs.

It was 2 am on Christmas morning. You knew your husband would eventually wake up and come find you but, you thought you had more time still.

‘In the kitchen,’ you answered loud enough for him to hear.

‘What are you doing up?’ he asked before planting a kiss on your temple.

You smiled up at him; he was always so affectionate towards you. Since he knew how to read body language, he was often one step ahead and gave you either a hug or a kiss before you were even aware you needed it.

‘I can’t sleep...’ you said as nonchalantly as possible and took a sip from the steaming mug sitting in front of you on the kitchen island. ‘And I thought maybe staring out of the window at the falling snow might make me sleepy.’

‘And you’re drinking tea?’ he raised an eyebrow and sat down on the stool next to yours.

‘Decaf, just to be safe,’ he smiled at you, but you were sure he thought you were talking about your apparent insomnia.

‘You’ve been biting your lower lip again,’ he pointed out as he got up. He took a paper napkin from the roll, wetted it at the sink and stood in front of you as he dabbed at your lip to clean the dried blood there.

‘Thank you,’ you told him, avoiding his gaze without realising. You knew _he_ knew it was a nervous habit of yours.

‘So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or are you going to make me guess?’

‘David...’

‘Don’t _David_ me,’ he told you with that lopsided smile of his which always made you smile yourself.

You finished the last of your drink and put the mug in the sink before rounding the island to take his hand.

‘Come on, let’s go back to _bed,’_ you told him, putting as much emphasis on the word as you could to get the message across. You didn’t need to be a profiler to know your husband and you had an idea or two to get you both worn out for the night.

And right you were. He quickly followed you, discarding your robe somewhere along the stairs and kissing you on the back of your neck, your pulse point, and that _one_ place below your ear that made your knees grow weak... Your activities continued on for a while until neither of you could keep your eyes open, and you fell soundly asleep.

The next morning, you were woken up by the wonderful smell of food. You got up, showered and went down the stairs to find David switching between whistling and singing along to the Michael Bublé song on the radio as he flipped stuff on a pan and prepared a fresh pot of coffee.

_‘I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the oooones I used to know, where the tree tops glisten and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow, the snow!’_

You laughed at his child-like spirit for the holiday. He turned around when he heard you and smiled as he put the scrambled eggs on the plates. He dropped the pan in the sink and offered you his hand as the song continued.

 _‘...May your days, may your days, may your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white,’_ he sang low, right next to your ear.

He twirled you and hugged you from behind as you took over the song, despite the fact that you were completely tone-deaf:

_‘I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know, mmm, where the tree tops glisten and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow.’_

He turned you around and you were facing each other again to sing the next line together:

_‘I'm dreaming of a white Christmas with every Christmas card I write.’_

_‘May your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white,’_ you finished, as he continued to guide you around the kitchen, until the song inevitably came to an end.

 _‘I'm dreaming of a white Christmas with every Christmas card I write, may your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white,’_ he leaned down as the two of you finished the song and you stood on your tiptoes to reciprocate the kiss.

 _‘Buon Natale, il mio tesoro,’_ he said, barely breaking the kiss for a second.

‘Merry Christmas, _il mio amore,’_ you told him. You didn’t know that much Italian, so you usually just repeated phrases you had heard from him. ‘Mmm. Dave. The food,’ you said between kisses.

‘Right!’ He ran over to the oven and took out an amazing-smelling tray of cookies. ‘I thought we could decorate them later.’

‘I’d love to,’ you replied as you poured two cups of coffee.

You helped him bring everything to the dining room table, where the rest of the display awaited: orange juice, heaps of toast, mini jars of jams, you name it.

‘David!’ you squeaked as he pulled the chair out for you.

‘What?’ he asked innocently and took a seat opposite you.

‘This is what you call a breakfast for _two_?’ you asked through a laugh, to which he just shrugged. It looked eerily similar to the breakfast you had ordered the morning after the first night of your honeymoon.

You took a bite of the eggs and hummed in approval. You then went for the coffee. You brought it to your lips but paused for a second. You hadn’t realised it, but your husband was watching your every move.

‘Is the coffee too strong for you, _bella?’_ his voice seemed cautious.

‘Is... is it decaf? I’ve been meaning to cut down on caffeine,’ you replied carefully.

‘It is, actually. Don’t want you to stay up all night. Although, if it’s gonna end up like last night...’ he trailed off.

‘David!’

‘What? I’m not complaining,’ he laughed for a moment, but then his expression got serious again. _‘Bella?’_

‘Mm?’

‘When were you going to tell me?’

‘Tell you what?’

‘That you’re pregnant.’

Your fork stopped halfway through to your mouth and you put it down slowly.

‘How did you know?’ you asked in a small voice, not making eye contact again.

‘Packages of decaf tea and coffee have mysteriously appeared in the kitchen, you’ve been exhausted in the mornings, as well as taking twice as long in the shower, which made me think that you may have been using the noise of the water to hide your morning sickness from me. But most importantly, you’ve been avoiding making eye contact with me.’

‘I’m sorry, it’s not like I wanted to keep this from you,’ you said with a few tears already gathering in your eyes. _Damn hormones._

‘So, what made you keep it a secret?’ he asked as he moved in front of you and knelt on the floor.

‘I just wasn’t sure whether you wanted to have children with me or not, especially now that Joy is in your life,’ you confessed grabbing his left hand and playing with his wedding ring.

‘I have to admit that it did take me by surprise once I connected all the dots but, I would never be against having more children, _especially_ with you,’ he told you, his own emotions showing in his features.

‘So, you’re not angry with me?’ you bit your lip as you gave him a shy smile.

‘How could I ever be angry with you over something like this?’ he smiled back, and you leaned down to kiss him.

‘Mmm,’ you hummed again.

‘Come on, the food is getting cold,’ he told you as he reluctantly got up and returned to his seat.

Later in the afternoon, after opening the presents under the tree and decorating the cookies, you were both lying on the couch wrapped in a warm blanket in front of the fire.

‘You _do_ know that the dancing number this morning was worthy of a Hallmark Christmas movie, right?’

‘Oh, I know,’ he laughed with you as his hands instinctively started drawing circles on your still-not-noticeably-pregnant stomach.

You shouldn’t have worried at _all._ Your kid already had David wrapped around his or her little finger.


End file.
